GCT
by LSgrimm91
Summary: Sam should have known that cancer might run in the family.


**Disclaimer: I should just put one on my profile page to cover all my stories.**  
><strong>Summary: Sam should have realised Cancer might run in the family.<strong>  
><strong>Anote: Just a random little diddy. Again. Sorry if any of you are sensitive about this topic. It has a happy ending though :D Thank you Adi for the beta. Enjoy!**

~ GCT ~

"MOTHERF-"

"Carter?" Jack popped his head in the back of the removal truck sitting in Sam's driveway.

At first, her sudden leave of absence had struck his curiosity. Of course, he wasn't so enthralled by her mysterious – and sudden – request for some down time to go to her house and interrogate her. It was only as he was jogging down her street and noticed the large unmarked truck at the front of her house that his inquisitiveness got the better of him.

So here he stood: sporting his half soaked hockey shirt, at the back of the open truck and watching the angelic blonde head of his Major pop up from behind a sofa. One he did not recognise as hers.

"What are you doing?" he asked, though it came out a little demanding.

Sam scowled at him, a hint of apology laden in her glare. She looked down and Jack's eyes drifted lower to the object of her attention. She was clutching her foot and rubbing the toe, using the arm of the sofa to support her balance.

"Dropped the couch on my foot Sir," she muttered, clearly unamused by the situation.

"Going somewhere?" Jack brought a foot up to the ramp that led into the truck. She avoided his gaze for a minute and he couldn't help but hold his breath. Please don't say 'yes'.

"No sir," she shook her head and lowered her foot to the ground. Somewhere inside Jack, a knot untangled. As long as she wasn't going anywhere, he didn't really care about the removal truck. She read his mind and explained its presence anyway. "I bought a new sofa." she patted the plastic wrapping.

"Haven't seen you all week," Jack couldn't meet her guarded gaze and looked at his sneaker as it bobbed up and down on the ramp. She knew he'd been made aware of her indefinite leave. He was subtly asking for more information.

"I know. I'm sorry Sir," her apology didn't sound heartfelt, but it was sincere, "I was hoping to talk to all of you..."

The sadness it her voice attracted Jack's attention.

His eyes locked on hers and he wasn't sure what he saw. At times, those sapphire orbs could speak louder than words. Most of the time, they were little more than glass that he couldn't read. Like now.

He used the handrail to hoist himself up and into the darkened truck. She was on the defensive. He could see it in her body language. Taking the safest course, Jack lowered himself onto the plastic-wrapped couch. Showing as much patience and nonchalance as possible, he linked his fingers in his lap, much as he would if he had a beer and used his silence to encourage her to elaborate. Sam took a calming breath and sat down on a box in front of him. It took a little time to get her to start talking, but as soon as she did, Jack was thankful for the economy of her words.

"I was experiencing some pain in my lower back," she rested her elbows on her knees, looking gown at the grated metal floor, "and Janet did some scans and a few X-rays. When the images came back, we found... something."

The corner of his eye twitched involuntarily. That was the most hesitant 'something' he'd ever heard.

"Something bad?" Jack asked, his throat a little dry. It wasn't due to exercise either.

"Maybe," Sam said with a tilt of her head. Trying to make it seem unimportant. A mechanism to convince herself that whatever that 'maybe' was, it would not affect her. Jack kicked her leg to draw her eyes to his. Without words, he asked for further explanation. Sam took a deep breath, straightening her posture and rubbing her knees. Once she began, she didn't stop.

"We found a tumour. On the inner wall of my left ovary," she rubbed the underside of her nose, "I should have gotten myself checked after dad..." Her voice hitched but she quickly picked up a new sentence, "At the moment, we're waiting to see if it's benign or not."

Jack had heard enough.

Her words were being compromised by emotion and he wanted to cut the crap. As an act of mercy to the part of Sam that hated to cry, Jack held up a hand to silence her.

"You trying to tell me you have cancer, Carter?"

Damn him, but if she couldn't hear the swell of emotion in _his _voice, there was something wrong.

"Sir..." she breathed, her eyes dropping to his feet. Irritated by the lack of eye contact and answers, Jack leaned forwards and tilted her chin up.

"I don't know. I'm waiting for the phone call from Janet to tell me if the tumour is cancerous or not." Her brow quivered as she forced them not to arch in worry. As if with a mind of its own, his thumb brushed the length of her jaw line. He allowed it to continue its exploration, as long as it went no further. As soon as her eyes left his, he dropped his hand.

"I mean, I should have known. My family has a history of it. My grandfather on my mother's side had prostate cancer. Then dad had lymphoma. I should have been _more _careful," she grimaced angrily and rose to her feet, denting the cardboard box as she pushed off it. Jack sat back a little to watch her.

Sam was getting flustered. He couldn't blame her. To be subjected to the disease that nearly took her father, surely she was entitled to a certain amount of anger. Maybe. If it was benign: no problem. Or at least, less of a problem. This had clearly given her a scare.

Hell, it was scaring him.

Sam paced for a moment and stopped, looking down at him. She was deciding whether to tell him something. Her chin dipped to her chest as if she were about to divulge her darkest secret.

"I'm kind of, afraid...Sir," she said quietly and bequeathed him with a rare sight. The woman behind the good soldier routine. He was enraptured by the sight. He saw the tremor of her arms and pushed off the couch.

"I'll wait with you." He was surprised by the intimacy that stained the chivalrous offer. She smiled in thanks and nodded. Falling upon the security of his humour, Jack looked behind him to the sofa.

"You didn't try to get this inside on your own did you? You're good Carter, but not _that _good," he teased and she treated him to a fuller, brighter smile.

"Teal'c was going to help me." She manoeuvred to the far end of the sofa as Jack took up his place at the ramp.

"He's off with SG-3 today," he groaned as they lifted the heavy piece of furniture. Physical fitness had its uses. He carefully backed down the ramp, quite distracted by the faces Carter pulled from her end of the sofa. Jack didn't dare laugh, lest she use the large sofa to squash him.

Death by sofa. Try explaining that to Hammond.

For the better part of an hour, he and Sam replaced the old couch in her living room with the spectacular looking red leather three-seater. So long old floral. Jack had collapsed on the new couch while Sam went to close up her rented truck. Why she didn't just let the delivery guys move it, Jack wouldn't speculate. At least he'd gotten a decent amount of exercise today.

He pressed his face into the puffy armrest, but turned his nose away from the overpowering smell of leather. Jack was quite ready to fall asleep in Carter's living room when the loud shrill of her cordless house phone startled him. On the television stand, her phone demanded attention. After three rings, Jack went to rise, but stopped when Sam barrelled into the room.

She gave him an anxious look as she answered. As expected, it was Janet Frasier.

Jack rolled onto his back and watched her, surprised when she came over to the couch and sat on the floor between him and her coffee table. She wanted him to be a part of whatever news Janet inflicted upon her. Her expression revealed nothing until a relieved smile broke out across her young features.

She was okay.

Eventually Sam hung up and the phone fell into her lap. She looked at him over her shoulder.

"Benign. A little surgery and I'll be back on to work in no time." She smiled lazily. She'd obviously been worrying about this for a while. Jack held out a hand and waited. She grasped it gave him a gratuitous squeeze.

"Thank you for distracting me Sir." It wasn't _really _his intention to distract her during the past hour as she waited for her phone call, but if she saw it that way, who was he to argue? There was an odd innocence in lying on her couch and holding her hand. It allowed a certain level of intimacy between two people - not necessarily born from attraction – without the threat of such an action being misconstrued for something inappropriate.

"You'll be fine Carter. You always are," he offered with his own little smile.

~ SJ ~

**That's it. I hope you enjoyed this random diddy. I think I enjoyed writing it. I don't know. It's after 2am here so my brain is doing strange things. Thanks Zara for the help :)**


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